Home Again
by MandalorianHybrid
Summary: Everyone comes home eventually. Without warning, Dex's already complicated life is made even more so when her sister shows up in town. The Parios women are nothing but trouble and between Des's cryptic answers and her constant flirting with Grey, Dex wants nothing more than to get her sister back on the road. (follows the TV show and will be technically considered MA later)
1. Home Sweet Home

**AN:** Hey guys! This is a little something I'm trying out. It follows the TV show and full disclosure, I haven't read the comics. If you like it, let me know. I hope you enjoy!

**One**

_Bad Alibi_'s late afternoon crowd had finally made their way into the bar. It was too early for dinner, but too late to really be considered lunch. It was a sweet spot of sorts, a time in the day where people were still ordering more food than booze. In an hour or two, that would change, but for now, Grey was glad to not have to deal with the drunken crowd.

_Bad_ _Alibi_ wasn't a high-end place. It wasn't super popular, didn't have lines that stretched down the block or anything else like that, but people seemed to really enjoy the atmosphere, the drinks, they loved the food, and he'd spent the majority of the year in the black because of that. In a few weeks of ownership, Greyson McConnell had managed to keep his head above water. Then again, with friends like Dex Parios, he might not keep the winning streak up.

"Ah, thank you." Dex smiled as Grey slid a fresh beer along the top of the bar surface. He grinned a little at how relieved she seemed to be. It was the third in what would probably be a long line. "Hello, beautiful."

Grey arched a brow at her.

"You still haven't told me what happened." He said to her.

Dex took a moment to reply because she was too busy sucking just about every drop of ale from the dark brown bottle that housed it. When she did finally come up for air, however, she met his gaze heavily.

"Old, hairy, _saggy_," She was sure to stress that word in particular, "man-ass."

Grey grimaced. He felt his face twist with disgust as images forced their way into his mind regardless of his desire to keep them out.

"Seriously?"

She nodded heavily while she took another long pull. "I didn't want to see that." She groaned. "I mean, I was just following the car, right? How was I supposed to know they'd hook up in a parking lot? The guy's like, sixty. People in their sixties aren't supposed to be gettin' it on in the back of a car."

He smiled softly, but the image was still right there in his mind.

The pair of them talked for a little while, people came and went as they always did, but one in particular caught his attention. A young woman entered and paused not far from the front door. Her bright blue eyes scanned the bar.

Grey stared, probably blatantly. He hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help it. She was an attractive young woman decked in layers of clothing, her dark hair was up in a high, incredibly messy bun, and it was clear that she was looking for someone.

When her gaze landed on him, Grey felt a strange little jolt trickle down his spine, but it wasn't him that she was looking at. It was Dex. Grey eyed the woman at the bar curiously while the stranger charged forward. Before he could open his mouth to warn his friend that she was apparently being "hunted", the stranger reached them and promptly kicked Dex's stool. Dex freaked out and nearly fell.

"What the f-" Dex hollered as she spun around to confront her attacker, but the words died away quickly.

The stranger smiled wide, flashing her perfect teeth as she looked at the irate brunette.

"Hi!" She beamed.

"You're such an asshole." Dex said tersely, which surprised Grey a little. Her being surly wasn't anything new, but the fact that the stranger seemed completely at ease with it was odd. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"Can't I come visit my big sister for a little while? Like, a vacation or something?"

_Sister?_ Grey thought.

"No," Dex said plainly. "Not when you live on the other side of the country. Besides, we're not that sort of family."

"Maybe I just missed you."

"We both know that's a lie."

"Yeah, fair point." She nodded. "But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere any time soon." And then she looked up and seemed to finally notice Grey. He smiled to her. "Hello, random-stranger-listening-to-everything."

"Hi," He mused to himself.

"Desi, this is my friend Grey. Grey, this is my sister Des." Dex said.

"Pleasure," Desi extended her hand over the bar and shook his when offered.

"We've actually met before." Grey told her. The second he'd heard her name, he remembered her. Hard to forget, really.

"Have we?"

"Yup," he nodded. "You had blue hair back then."

Her eyes narrowed on him and Grey could practically see the wheels spinning. He decided to help her out.

He motioned to his face when he said, "No beard."

And then, after a moment or two, it seemed to finally click.

"Oh, right." She smiled. "I remember now. Holy shit, a beard changed a lot for you. You used to look so sweet and innocent. Now you look so rugged."

He chuckled while Dex groaned and scrunched up her face in disgust.

"Come on, don't do that." She said in a tone to match.

"Do what"

"Flirt. Don't flirt with him."

"I'm not!" Des defended weakly, but the smile on her lips washed away any sincerity. "I'm just being honest. He looked really young without a beard, and now he looks rugged. That's a simple fact."

"Yeah, Dex." With a teasing grin, Grey pointed at his face. "Fact."

She glared lightly at him, which only made him chuckle once more.

"Anyway," She said as her attention went back to her sister, who was now sipping her beer. "Where are you planning to stay?" Dex snatched the bottle away. "Tell me it's at a hotel."

Des wiped the spilt beer from her chin and replied, "I'm staying with you."

"Bullshit,"

"Why not?"

"You're not staying with me. I don't-"

"Have the room?" Des said sarcastically. "Bullshit on you. Grams gave you the house, which has three damn bedrooms. You and Ansel have the room, so I'm staying there."

The two continued to send biting remarks back and forth as typical siblings would, all the while Grey stayed silent and watched. He couldn't tell if he bothered to hide his smirk or not, but if either of them had glanced in his direction, they'd be able to see it and probably turn some of that ire on him.

"Jesus, you're such a pain in the ass." Dex snapped. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"I already told you." Desi replied as she slid onto the stool beside her sister.

"And I don't believe it." Dex wasn't going to let it go. "Don't you have a couple of jobs or something like that?"

She shrugged at Dex, but turned her primary attention to Grey.

"Hi," She smiled politely.

"Hi," He fought the grin.

"Can I have a beer, please?"

"Sure," He nodded and stepped back only far enough to grab one of the bar's home brews out from the cooler. He twisted the top and offered it to her. "Here you go."

"Thank you,"

She sounded truly relieved as she took the ice-cold beverage and put the bottle to her lips. She even went so far as to let out a light groan of approval while she drank heartily. Grey's eyes danced to Dex and he could see her losing her patience. It was that special kind of irritation that only a sibling could cause.

"Des," Dex was annoyed, angry, but Desi didn't seem even the slightest bothered. Instead, she had the gall to hold up a finger while she continued to drink from her beer, silently telling Dex to give her a minute. Grey's brows rose in surprise. No one had the balls to so blatantly blow off the angry elder Parios. "Desdemona Fuji,"

Des choked on her drink and finally gave her sister her attention.

"Dexedrine Callisto," She snapped back.

Grey tried to hide his laugh, but it burst forward regardless. He couldn't explain how terrifying it was to have both of their faces jerk in his direction at the same time. Both of them stared blankly, but underneath it, he could see the anger bubbling.

"Something funny, Greyson?" Dex asked in a tone that let him know she didn't appreciate the laughter. That and the use of his full name told him plainly that he'd annoyed her.

"Nope," He shook his head. "I've just never heard your full name before."

"Our parents had a thing for terrible names." Dex mumbled.

"I was supposed to be named Ophelia." Des said. "Apparently, they'd rather name me after a woman who was murdered than died accidentally, or… committed suicide. Whichever."

"Good deal," he replied. Grey wasn't really sure what else he was expected to say.

Des and Dex turned to look back at one another and Grey felt a surprising amount of relief when they did. He didn't even mind the arguing that continued once they had.

Grey leaned back against the counter that held the bottles, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched the two bicker. It was like a National Geographic documentary –a rare glimpse into the life of the elusive Parios.

While they argued, it gave him a chance to compare the two. Maybe it was just the knowledge that they were related, or maybe because he was curious as to how similar they were personality-wise. He couldn't say. Grey just watched as though it would fill in anything.

They both had dark hair, though Des's was a little darker. They each had an oval face, but Dex's cheekbones were a little more defined, while Desi's lips were fuller. Dex had green eyes, Des had bright blue. They had their own differences, but there were clear signs that they were related. Both of them were really attractive young women, and it was hard to ignore, but those biting tongues were ready and waiting.

Grey had known Dex for long enough to be well-aware she had a razor-sharp wit. She was sarcastic, blunt, and brutally tore those who insulted her apart. He'd seen her cut down plenty of people, be they drunks or belligerent clients. Not many could hold their own against her, but Des seemed to know the dance well. Step for step, punch for punch, she was right there with her sister.

"Oh, please," Desi scoffed. Her voice brought Grey back into reality. "I worked at a plant nursery and a bar. It's not like I did anything important." And then she added derisively, "I think they'll survive without me."

"You can't just walk away from a job, let alone two." Dex practically growled she was so mad.

"Right, because finding employment in those two fields is ungodly difficult." She said sarcastically. "Hey, Grey," He met her gaze. "Need a bartender?"

Grey's brows rose curiously at her blunt way of addressing the issue. There was no hesitation, no hemming or hawing, just the blatant question.

"Actually,"

"No," Dex snapped sharply. "No, you're not working here."

"Why not?"

"Because this is where I come to relax." There was a wine laced within her words, a heavy sort of whine that Des had to have noticed. "I don't want you working here."

"Very mature." Des replied as she rolled her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be the oldest?" Dex didn't reply. She simply took a sip of her beer and was content to ignore her little sister, which seemed fine by Des. With another roll of her eyes, Des finished off her own drink, and then dug into her pocket. "How much?"

"Don't worry about it." Grey said. "On the house."

Des's brows tugged together curiously as she looked at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," He chuckled and nodded.

"Hm," Des gave a nod of her own and stowed her money. Her attention went back to her sister. "Keys," She held out her hand.

Dex eyed her skeptically. "I'm not giving you my house keys."

"Fine. I can get in without them."

Des turned and was nearly out the door when Dex shouted after her, "You break in and I'll call the cops!"

Des's response was a middle finger launched high into the air, and then she was gone. Grey looked at Dex and watched as she plowed her fingers through her hair, fisted it harshly, and growled loudly.

"God, she just gets under my skin." Dex said.

"I can see that." Grey chuckled. Dex shot him an angry glare, but he didn't let it bother him.

"You have any sisters?"

"Nope, just brothers."

"Lucky bastard." She grumbled as she took another sip of her beer.

Grey heard someone calling for him and excused himself to handle the situation. He couldn't remove his smile. It'd been five years, maybe six, since Des had been in town. Grey met her only once back then, so he wasn't surprised she didn't remember him, but that also meant he hadn't seen the two of them together. Even those few minutes, which most definitely equated to less than ten, were intense.

Desdemona Parios was like a hurricane that swept in, threw the world into chaos, and then skittered back out to leave those in her wake to deal with the mess. It didn't bother him because Dex was the same. In fact, he was used to it, but seeing someone leave Dex so twisted made him laugh to himself. He hoped Desi hung around for a while because he did, actually, need a bartender.

* * *

Dex didn't know where Grey had gone, but assumed it was to do something bar related. She didn't really care. She was still reeling after Des's random appearance.

_God damn Des,_ she thought to herself.

Dex loved her sister, she did, but if there was a person in the world who angered her more than anyone else, it was her damn sister. That was true of everyone, though, wasn't it? Family was always that "one thing".

Sometimes, Dex swore that Ansel was her reward. She liked to think that God, if He existed, saw how stressful and irritating Desi was and gifted Dex with someone as sweet, loving, and kind as Ansel.

After taking in the last bit of her beer, Dex was prepared to order another. Part of her wanted to stay at _Bad Alibi_ to get drunk. She didn't want to go home because she knew Des would be there waiting for her and she wasn't prepared to deal with her little sister.

Dex's head dipped as she buried her face in her palm. The last time Des was in town, she stayed for a week and in that week, she'd been arrested for drunk and disorderly, and assault. In truth, Dex was all for her sister in that situation. Some guy grabbed her ass, so Des reacted like every Parios woman would –she punched him in the face. Thank God Dex managed to work out a deal to get her released.

"You want another?"

Grey's voice caused Dex to pull herself back into reality. She looked up and nodded heavily. A crooked little grin, one that he wore a ridiculous amount of time it seemed, tugged at the corner of his lips as he took away her empty and replaced it with a brand new beer.

"You can't give her a job here, Grey." She said. He looked a little surprised by the declaration. "I'm serious. You c_an't_ let Des work here."

"Why not?" He drew back and leaned against the far counter with his thick arms crossed casually. "Peter quit two weeks ago. You know I need someone."

"Not her." Dex said sternly.

"She lazy?"

Dex thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"She steal from her last place?"

"No," Dex sighed because she already knew where this was heading.

Grey shrugged nonchalantly. "That's really all I'm worried about."

Dex glared at him which made him smile again. If she didn't like him as much as she did, she'd punch him in the face. He was lucky they'd been friends for so long.

"Look," He finally said, "If she's just gonna be in town for a little while, it doesn't matter. If she's going to be around a little longer, why not? At least she'd be out of your place."

His reasoning was sound, which bothered her greatly. Hopefully, it wouldn't matter in the end. Dex's life was hectic enough without having to deal with Des, too.

With another sigh, Dex ran her fingers through her hair and scratched her head. She would deal with it later. Right now, she just wanted to drink. After taking pictures of an old man nailing his mistress, she wanted to drown herself in alcohol.

* * *

The house was locked up tight, which surprised Des more than it should have. Truth was, Dex wasn't a very responsible person, so her locking both doors was a shock. If Des hadn't grown up in the house, she would have been annoyed that she couldn't get in. The truth was, she knew a way. She knew _the_ way.

To the left of the craftsman-style house was an old oak tree. The oak was one of those that grew low to the ground, not tall. The thick, twisted branches were an easy ladder that Des used to get onto the low roof. Quick steps took her to the attic window with the janky lock. She was glad to find that Dex was too lazy to fix it, and slid right inside. When she was a kid, the attic was Dex's bedroom. It looked like it was used for storage now.

Des trudged downstairs, heard the familiar creak of the fourth step down, and instantly unlocked the front door. She retrieved her bags from her rental and dropped them unceremoniously in the living room. An instant later, she fell onto the couch.

The house hadn't changed much since Grams died. The furniture was still the same, still in the same place in fact. The only difference was the way it smelled and the fact that Dex's shit was everywhere. At least Ansel's things were organized, always put away because he liked the order of it. He wasn't home, which led her to believe that he was probably with a tutor (if he still went to them) or was at soccer practice.

Des arched a brow at everything. While she'd sworn years ago that she would never come home, where the hell else was she supposed to go?

When you're scared or in trouble, you go home, right?


	2. New Job

**Two**

Later that afternoon, Des returned to the bar and was glad to see that her angry sister wasn't there waiting for her. Grey, however, was.

"Where's Dex?" He asked as she took her seat.

Des shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?" Grey smiled at her, which caused Des to smile back. "You're really cute."

His brows rose in surprise, but he grinned at her in disbelief. He even chuckled a little. Des could tell he hadn't expected the response which, sure, not many people would. Des was always to the point. She never saw a need in dancing around something. Though, honestly, that practice had caused her a fair amount of trouble in her life.

"Thanks," He finally said.

Des shrugged a single shoulder. He didn't know how to react to her random statement, and she didn't expect him to.

"Drink?" He asked.

"No, thanks." She smiled. "But, I was wondering if you really did have a job available."

His brows rose a little. "Oh, yeah?"

Des nodded. "I'll sweep, I don't really care. I just need a paycheck."

He eyed her curiously. "Thought you were here on vacation?"

She didn't offer an answer. Instead, Des smiled wide, but not obnoxiously. She didn't want to scare the guy, after all. When he seemed to finally realize that she had no intentions of answering his question, Grey moved on.

"Okay, uh," He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "You bartend before?"

"Yeah," She nodded. "For about five years in Nashville."

"You've been in Tennessee?"

"Yup," And that was all she planned to say about it.

"What do you know how to make?"

"What do you want?"

He grinned and eyed her. He thought for a moment until he finally stepped out from behind the bar.

"Let's start with an Old Fashioned." Grey motioned toward the bar.

"Sure." Des did her best not to sound arrogant, but an Old Fashioned wasn't exactly a difficult drink to make.

She traded places with Grey. While he took her seat, she slipped behind the bar and went about searching for the supplies she needed. It was a little tricky given she was in new territory, but easy enough.

"You prefer syrup or a cube?" She asked as she set a glass down on the bar's surface.

"Cube," He told her.

Des gave a nod and went about making the drink. There were a dozen small steps, but each of them was easy.

A dash of bitters, both average and orange, gave her a small bit of liquid to crush the sugar cube in. After she muddled it with the bottom of a stirring spoon, Des added a splash of soda water. The rye was next, and then a large chunk of ice that she was disappointed in. Des preferred ice chunks much larger than what she had given the sort of drink she was making, but she did her best. After a twist of orange, she dropped the peel into the drink and slid it across the bar.

Grey sniffed it, twirled it from side to side so the ice shifted, and then took a sip. Des knew, rather arrogantly to be sure, that he was toying with her because she was certain her Old Fashioned was delicious.

"Not bad," He finally said. Des narrowed her eyes while a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He chuckled. "It's good."

"Thank you," she wasn't entirely sure she removed her cocky tone. "FYI, silicon muffin tins. They make nice-sized ice cubes for drinks."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Grey lifted his drink to his lips when Des was flagged down by another patron. She gave him a questioning sideways glance. He nodded and she set off down the bar to tend to the customer.

Des fell into the action easily. She hadn't tended bar for nearly a month, and she was in a new place, but the ingredients never changed. Besides, most people only wanted a beer.

Roughly an hour passed with Des behind the bar before it slowed down enough for her to approach Grey again. He hadn't moved. He was still sitting comfortably on her stool, but the Old Fashioned was gone.

"Was this an audition, or free labor?" She asked him with a smile.

"Both," He teased. "Come with me."

Grey finally stood and headed toward the back. Des followed behind him, around the tables and through a large, sliding door.

The bar was in an old warehouse, like a fair amount of bars and pubs. As a result, there was a lot of exposed brick, a lot of tall, multi-paned windows, and a lot of sliding steel doors. It was a typically iconic building in the northwest where logging was such a huge deal back in the day.

Grey's office was in the back, not far from the main belly of the bar, but deep enough into the hall that he could have some silence. Des was surprised by how efficiently the door cut off the noise when he closed it behind him.

Across from her was a desk made of industrial materials, some leather IKEA furniture to her right, a row of old school filing cabinets that lined the brick wall behind the desk, and the massive wall of windows to her left let in a lot of light. All in all, she quite liked the space.

"Go ahead," He motioned to one of the chairs across from his desk. Des took a seat while he did the same. "Want a job?"

Her brow rose. "Just like that?"

Grey shrugged a shoulder. "Why not?"

"Because you don't know anything about me. What if I'm crazy like Dex?" She joked.

"I'm kinda hoping you are." He chuckled. "Some of the people around here can get a little out of hand."

Des couldn't fight her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't tell if they were just teasing each other or flirting, but either way, she was enjoying herself.

"How long are you going to be in town?" He finally asked.

"I don't know yet."

"Well, if you want to work here for a couple weeks or something, that's fine. I can use the help."

"Really?" She was a little confused.

"Yeah." He nodded. "At least until I can find a permanent bartender."

"Well," Des leaned back in her chair. She crossed her legs and set her gaze on him. "How much does it pay?"

When he smiled again, she could see his pearly whites. It was more than a smirk, and she liked it. She wasn't lying when she said she thought he was cute. Grey was an average guy of average height with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. His beard covered most of his face, but it she could remember right, he was an adorable man –a guy with a face that made you instantly want to friend-zone him. It was a mean thing to say, but true. Grey just looked like that guy in high school that had a thousand girl friends, but no girlfriends.

Des would have dated him, though. She needed those kinds of guys to pull her back, to balance her out. Maybe that was why she was as attracted to him as she was? That and she could sense the sarcasm. Glimpses of it had peeked through in the few times they'd spoken, but Des could tell there was more lingering somewhere out of sight. She loved a guy that could keep up.

"Minimum wage plus tips." He replied.

Her brows creased a little. "I don't even know what minimum wage in Oregon is anymore."

"Little less than twelve bucks an hour."

"Oh, shit. Really?" She was a bit surprised, which seemed to surprise Grey. "It was less than eight in Tennessee." Grey's shock deepened. "Yeah, but rent is like, half."

"Fair enough." He said. Grey leaned forward and crossed his arms over the top of his desk, looking all sorts of professional when he did. "What do you say?"

"I mean, sure." She told him.

Des was willing to work for tips in a place like Bad Alibi. In Tennessee, she took home roughly ten to twenty dollars a night in tips (they pooled them at that particular bar) and nearly one hundred on the weekends. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad because she didn't rely only on that particular job to survive. So, in her mind, if she brought home that basic level of tips with three dollars more in regards to minimum wage, she'd do just fine. It wasn't as though she'd have to pay rent.

"Great," He smiled to her again which made Des do the same, though admittedly, hers was a bit more wicked than his. "When can you start?"

The flirtatious innuendos coursed through her mind and she couldn't help it.

"When do you want me?"

Grey's lips twitched as though he fought the desire to smile outright. His eyes narrowed on her, though, which told her that he heard every bit of her tone.

Des wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear him answer her because no matter what he chose to say, it would sound sexual, and he knew it, too. It didn't matter if he said _now, tomorrow_, or whatever else. It would still be laced with delicious undertones.

"You always like this?" He asked leadingly.

Without hesitation, Des answered, "Yes."

Grey chuckled under his breath. "How 'bout you start tomorrow?"

"Sure,"

"You okay with being paid under the table for now?"

She cocked a brow. "Sounds disreputable, sir."

He smiled at her again. "Well, I don't know how long you're staying in town." He said in a playful voice. "Otherwise I'd put you on the payroll." She mocked a sneer, silently saying, _fine, be that way_. "How 'bout you just fill in here and there. That work?"

"That's fine." Des leaned forward and motioned to the stack of Post-Its he had on his desk. "May I?"

Grey nodded and offered her a pen after she peeled off the top note. She quickly scribbled across the highlighter-yellow piece of paper and gave it to him.

"Here's my number." Des stood when he took the piece of paper and looked it over before he met her gaze. "Just let me know when you need me."

With a little wink, Des left the office, all the while smiling to herself. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about Grey. Whether it was a smart idea or not, she planned to sleep with him before she left town –at least once. Preferably many more times than that.

She made it through the bar with ease and with her hand on the front door, Des had nearly pushed it entirely open when she felt her pocket vibrate. She reached for her cell as she stepped out onto the street.

The number that flashed back was unfamiliar and it sent an ice-cold chill down her spine. Des instantly stopped moving. Her entire body had gone rigid, and it wasn't by choice. She was frozen out of pure, unadulterated fear. She swam in the emotion for what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a second until she noticed a very important detail. The number had a Portland area code.

Des breathed immediate relief as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, hi, is this Desdemona Parios?" The familiar voice on the other end asked.

Des smiled and glared playfully. "May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Grey McConnell," He said. Des turned and made her way back into the bar. "I was hoping to get in touch with her."

Des made it through the internal door and saw the man himself standing behind the bar with the house phone to his ear. He met her gaze and smiled the moment he saw her.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked. "Do you know how dangerous it is to say something like that to someone like me?"

Grey's head dipped and while she couldn't see it, Des could hear him laughing through the phone. Eventually, he looked up and met her eye again.

"Can you turn everything into something sexual?"

Des finally reached the bar and ended the call. Grey did the same.

"Yes," She told him honestly. "It is a skill, I won't lie."

"Clearly,"

"So, what did you need? It's been thirty seconds. Miss me already?"

"I was just wondering if you could cover Dillon's shift tonight." He apparently decided to just ignore her question entirely, but Des could see him smiling beneath the beard. "Eight to closing."

"When's closing?"

"Two."

Des thought about it for a moment. In truth, she planned to show up, but she wanted him to wait for it.

"I suppose I can manage." She told him. "See you tonight."

"See you tonight."

And with that, Des left for the second time. As she did, she was sure to save the number in her phone.

* * *

There was one good thing about taking a shower in the bright pink and pastel green, overly-tiled bathroom of an octogenarian –the water pressure. The bathroom hadn't been touched since what had to be the Truman administration, but that was part of the beauty of it. Being the guest bathroom, it got little love, so it still had the original showerhead that would pummel you in an attempt to tear your hair off.

Des loved it. She almost didn't need shampoo because the water pressure would just spray the dirt off her scalp with the intensity of a power washer.

Bright pink and cleaner than a freshly-buffed car, Des was sure to slather herself in lotion before she grabbed her clothes. When she was dressed, Des jogged downstairs to grab her makeup bag and reached the first floor just as the front door opened. Dex eyed her sister curiously, but Ansel, who was following her in, smiled immediately.

"Desi," He said happily.

"Ansel!" Des felt infinitely better for seeing her brother and quickly wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, too. "Oh, man," She sighed. "You always give the best hugs."

"I know," He chuckled as they drew back. "I didn' know you were back."

"Just got in today."

"Hey, buddy," Dex said, drawing attention to her. "How 'bout you go put your stuff in your room, hm?"

"But I want to talk to Desi."

Dex glowered at her slightly over Ansel's head while Desi simply smiled sarcastically.

"Don't worry, man." Des said. He looked at her through the slightly-foggy lenses of his glasses. "I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

"Okay,"

With his bag full of soccer gear, Ansel headed upstairs, leaving his two sisters alone.

"You going somewhere?" Dex finally asked when she noticed that, while wearing fairly normal clothes, Des was a little dressed up.

"Work," She said.

Des didn't have to bother looking at her sister to know she was giving "The Eye". Everyone knows "The Eye". It's that judgmental look that others force on you because they're struggling to find something to say. Or, y'know, they're judging you.

Dex was still quiet as Desi plopped down onto the couch and began to withdraw her few, but trusty, makeup supplies. She'd swept the powder over her face in the places where she needed a bit of coverage, and was in the process of dipping her brush in her eyeliner when Dex appeared in front of her. Des glanced up only briefly before she returned the majority of her attention to the task at hand.

"What?"

"_Where_ did you get a job?" Dex asked leadingly.

Des said nothing, but let a smile curl the corner of her lips. Dex knew. She had to know because the topic of a job had only been brought up once, and Dex was a smart woman.

"Goddamn it, Des." She growled. "Why?"

"What's your problem?" Desi looked up at her sister. "A job'll keep me out of your house, keep me out of your hair, and I'll have cash of my own."

"This is my life, Des." She snapped. "You can't just come here and insert yourself into my fucking life, throw it into chaos, then run off like you always do." Des glowered up at her sister. "If you fuck Grey over, I swear to God-"

"What do you think I'm going to do here?" Des snapped. "Jesus, Dex, I'm not going to go on some kind of rampage."

"You did last time."

"That was six years ago! Christ, I was like, twenty-two." Des shook her head and went back to her eyeliner. "I don't even know why you give a shit."

"I give a shit because _I'm_ the one who actually lives here and _I'm_ the one that always has to call in favors to get your ass out of trouble."

Desi didn't reply after that. She didn't need to get into another fight with Dex and a fight was on the horizon. They were always close by when the two of them were together. Families, basically. There was no other reason for it.

Dex seemed to be on the same page and decided to simply walk away. As she grumbled and mumbled to herself while she stepped into the kitchen, Des glanced over the edge of her mirror. She wanted to point out how many times Dex had done stupid shit when they were growing up, too. The truth was, the pair of them were more alike than either really wanted to admit. They both had trouble with fighting, drinking, and just attracting trouble. But, Dex was the oldest so she liked to pretend she was above such childish things. It was stupid, but there you go.

With her attention back on the task, Des finished doing her makeup. Right about the same time she finished slathering on some mascara, Ansel trudged heavily downstairs.

"Are you goin' somewhere?" He asked when he saw her putting her makeup away.

The sad way he asked the question genuinely hurt Des's heart. Leaving town was easy. Leaving her brother broke her. If she thought she could have taken care of the both of them, she probably would have tried to take him with her, but Dex never would've allowed it.

Des glanced to her cell phone, which was sitting on the coffee table. "In about an hour." She replied, then plastered a wide smile on her face. "I got a job."

"Where?" Ansel asked as he took a seat beside her.

"At a bar in Old Town, _Bad Alibi_."

Ansel lit up. "I work there, too!" He told her excitedly.

Des was surprised. She couldn't help it. Even though Ansel was more than capable, not many people seemed willing to give him the chance to prove himself. Apparently, Grey had.

"No kidding?" She asked. Still beaming with a wide smile, he nodded. "Well, maybe you can tell me, is Grey a good boss? He treat you okay?"

"Grey's a good guy." Ansel nodded. "He's my friend."

"So I don't need to kick his ass or anything?"

Ansel chuckled a little and shook his head. "No,"

"Good," Des gave a sharp nod, but smiled at her little brother.

"Hey, Desi, wanna play a video game?"

"Hm… Which one?"

He named his favorite racing game and Des immediately let out a loud, obnoxious sigh.

"But you're too good at that one!"

"I know," he smiled wide.

"You're lucky you're my favorite."

Des took the offered controller and proceeded to race her brother until it was time for her to go to work.


	3. Hell on Wheels

**AN: **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

**Three**

Grey was at the far end of the bar going through his invoices. He was crossing 'I's and dotting his 't's to make sure he had everything in order. He was meticulous because he didn't want the bar to fail in its first year over something stupid like a missed comma or decimal in the finances, or a skimped order.

When people came and went, he'd glance up. He was perfectly positioned so that he could see everything, which meant he noticed Des when she arrived for her shift. He did a double-take because, as any normal person would, he expected her to arrive wearing what she had earlier in the day. He expected to see her wearing jeans, a black shirt beneath an oversized men's button-up, and a jacket. He expected her to look like Dex, basically. What walked through the door was not the typical Portland-Casual.

Her hair was still tied up in a messy bun, but her entire outfit was black –black leather-like pants, black boots, and a black tank top that hung loosely off her shoulders. He could even see hints of a black lace bra that peeked out from beneath the wide, open arm holes of her top. A bevy of necklaces hung around her neck and reached the middle of her chest, and a hint of silver in her nose rounded out her jewelry. He couldn't remember seeing a nose ring before.

When her eyes landed on Grey, she smiled and approached him.

"Hi," She smiled.

"Hey," He looked her over again and wasn't certain he managed to remove his surprise. "You ready for your shift?"

The stupid question was forced, but Grey felt compelled to add something beyond the greeting. Des didn't reply on it, however. She simply smiled.

Grey decided to move on as though nothing had happened. He told her she could put her things away in the back, but Des informed him that she left everything but her keys and phone in the car. He nodded, and after a short conversation, Des went to work.

* * *

It was almost midnight and Grey knew he should either go home, or at least leave the bar, but he didn't. While he did have a bit of work to finish, he moved through it slowly on purpose. He wanted to keep an eye on Des. He wanted to see how she interacted with the customers, how efficiently she worked, and how quickly she picked up on things like the layout of his bar, and the prices. The bartenders were his face, the thing customers saw when they bought drinks, so he was overly cautious about new hires.

She seemed to be doing well, slipping into the way of things with relative ease, but one thing bothered him. Bartenders flirted with customers. That was simply how it went. It was all to garner larger tips, and to get the customer to buy more alcohol. One thing they _weren't_ supposed to do was drink.

Before she started, Grey was sure to tell Des that, along with how tips were distributed, but it didn't seem to matter. From his spot at the end of the bar, Grey watched as Des, smiling wide and happy, poured a middle-aged man a shot and then one for herself. He watched them toast and her down the liquid before she promptly chased it with a beer. That was the third time. Once, Grey could forgive, maybe even twice, but three was deliberate and now he ran the risk of her becoming too drunk to do her job. He knew he had to intervene.

Grey stood and called Des over. She finished taking the money for the drinks, put it in the register, and met him. She still beamed and smiled at him.

"Yeah?" She asked in a bubbly tone.

"You can't keep drinking on the job." He told her bluntly. Des's smile began to falter. "If you're gonna keep it up, I'll have to send you home."

He must have sounded more judging than he meant, but he couldn't help it. That was simply how Grey's "boss voice" sounded, but Des clearly didn't appreciate it.

"I'm not." She said plainly.

Grey took a deep breath and sighed. He didn't want to be a dick to Dex's little sister, but he may have to be.

"I just saw you take a shot and chase it with a beer."

She scoffed and shook her head. "You saw me take a shot and spit it back out into an empty beer bottle." Grey's brows creased curiously. "Someone offers to buy you a shot and you say no, chances are they'll shut down, maybe buy one more drink, then that's it. Someone offers a shot and you take it, they get more comfortable and spend even more money, not to mention they usually tip." Within the blue of her eyes, Grey saw something that looked strangely like disappointment, but he couldn't tell if it was in him, or the situation. "I know how to do my job."

And with that, she returned to it.

Grey chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about the brief interaction. She wasn't wrong. Flat-out refusal of anything tended to turn people off, which made them spend less, but he would have liked to have a heads-up about her plan. It would have saved him the awkward confrontation.

Arching his brow at her, Grey returned to his work. Jesus, she was just like Dex. They both had a way of making a person feel like an asshole with very little effort.

* * *

When two o'clock came around, Des was the last one in the bar. The others had left when she said she would wipe everything down. She didn't have a problem doing the cleanup and since the new girl offered, they happily obliged. You'd have thought the building was on fire with how fast they ran out.

She went through the floor plan, dusting off tables and spreading crumbs and crap all over the floor before she put the chairs up, too. Des had finished with roughly half the tables when she heard heavy feet from behind. It was Grey, emerging from his cave in the back office.

"Hey," He greeted her.

"Hey," Des continued putting up the chairs.

"How was your first night?"

"Fine, but I don't know about my boss." When she finished with the final chair of the four that belonged to the table she was at, she turned to face him. "He's kind of a dick."

Grey grinned at her obvious teasing. "Yeah, sorry about that. I'm pretty protective of this place."

"It's fine," She replied, because it was. She didn't mind because she understood entirely, she just wished he hadn't sounded so accusatory when he confronted her.

"Well," Grey dug into his back pocket and produced a folded bit of cash. "Your tips for the night."

"Thanks." Des took it and stuck it into her bra because she didn't have pockets. After giving him another kind smile, she went back to work.

"You don't have to stick around. I can take care of this."

"No, it's fine. It keeps me busy."

"Afraid to go home?" He chuckled.

"Not afraid, but I know what's waiting for me when I get there." She said with a light sigh. "Look, I love Dex, I really do. You need someone to have your back in a fight, someone to help you out, she'll do everything she can, but you need forgiveness or someone who can let shit go?" Des let out a low whistle and shook her head. She gave Grey her attention again. "You're barkin' up the wrong tree with that one."

"Come on, it can't be that bad. Families, right?"

"I'll give you an example," Des leaned against the back of a booth seat and crossed her arms. With a small smile, she went on. "When I was ten, Dex had a paper route." Grey chuckled and stared at her with disbelief. She expected it. A paper route was a cute kind of job no one could see Dex having. "She was sick one day, so Grams had me take over. No problem, Dex only had a couple streets. So, I do the route, but I got fancy with it. I thought it'd be cool to throw the papers instead of dropping them on the step."

Grey grimaced with a smile. "I think I know where this is goin'. Broken window?"

"Oh, I broke it _good_." She joked. "Five AM, broken window, dogs start barking, the whole deal. So, I ran."

"Of course,"

"I dumped the papers off in a ditch, went home, never said a word. Later that day, her boss calls and chews her out. Didn't matter how many times she tried to tell him it was my fault, he fired her right then and there. She's livid, right, 'cuz it's her first job," he nodded. "But I refuse to take responsibility. To this _day_ she brings it up. Almost twenty years later, and it's still one of her favorite stories to use to point out how irresponsible I am."

Grey seemed to muse over the fact, but given how long he'd known her sister, Des highly doubted that he was surprised by it. Surely, by now, Grey had experienced Dex's inability to let things go at least once through the years.

"Well, look, regardless," He said, "You can head out. I'll finish up."

She eyed him curiously. "You sure?"

"Yeah," He nodded. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," She was a little apprehensive, but gave him a nod. "I'll see you later."

With a soft smile and a wave, Des headed out. Grey followed her to the door and locked it behind her.

The street was nearly abandoned. There were a few people here and there, probably employees like her just ending their shifts, but for the most part, Des was alone. It was a bit cold outside, which made her wish she had a jacket, but thankfully, her car was close by.

As she walked, her rental now in sight, Des felt a chill creep up the back of her neck -a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn air. Her pace slowed until, eventually, she stopped entirely. With her brows pulled together, Des looked around. Something was wrong, but she couldn't tell what it was. There was a nagging that wouldn't leave her.

And then she grasped what the feeling was. Des felt like she was being watched. The realization hit her hard, hard enough that breathing suddenly became difficult. Within seconds, Des had gone from being slightly uncomfortable to near full panic in seconds. Maybe it was irrational, maybe it wasn't. Either way, Des jogged quickly to her car, practically dove inside, and locked every door.

As her key slid into the ignition, she kept her eyes on the distance, but nothing emerged. No monster, no creeper –nothing. From what she could see, Des was alone, but the feeling of being watched persisted.

Unwilling to remain behind any longer, Des drove off as quickly as she could without drawing the attention of the cops she knew were probably hidden around corners looking for drunks.

* * *

The house was maybe twenty minutes from Old Town, thirty if you hit every light or there was traffic. It took Des an hour. No matter how far from _Bad Alibi_ she got, Des still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of being watched.

When she made it inside, Des locked up the house tight and fell onto the couch. She was in the process of yanking off her boots when, from seemingly nowhere, Dex emerged from the hall. The elder sister glanced over her.

"Well?" She asked bluntly.

Des's brows creased slightly. "Well, what?" She asked as she tugged off her Docs.

Dex arched a brow in that irritating way that always made Desi want to smack her.

"Are you wondering if I burned the bar down, or what?"

"Did you?"

Des scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No, obviously." She peeled off her socks. "It was a nice night, okay? Everything's fine. Grey's not going bankrupt, the police weren't called, everything's fine."

Dex didn't reply. Instead, she continued to stare at her little sister. It was pretty clear that she was doing her best to figure out if Des was lying or not.

Eventually, Dex mumbled something about _goodnight_ and left to, presumably, go to bed. When she had, Des rolled her eyes again and with a groan, laid down on the couch.

* * *

Des had been in town for nearly a week and slipped into life in Portland about as well as she assumed she could in a week. She might have been born and raised within the borders of Stumptown, it hadn't been "home" in a long time, and during that absence, everyone else moved right along. As a result, Des was the one that had to adapt. She had to slowly but surely insert herself back into the way of things.

With Dex off doing whatever it was she did (maybe making babies cry?) Des took Ansel to work. Apparently he did a little bit of everything, which he enjoyed. Des was glad he loved his job.

While he was doing something for Grey, Des sat at one of the tables off to herself. He said she could hang out for a while before they opened and she happily did. Today, Des had to return her rental, so a car was on the list of priorities.

Deep into Craig's List and scanning the thousandth ad for a cheap car, a drink slid into her view -brown, bubbling, and with a couple of cherries floating beneath the ice. The sudden appearance surprised her enough that it brought her back into reality. She looked up to see Grey smiling kindly, but there was a strange expression on his face.

"Thanks," She said.

"Ansel said it was your favorite." He said, still sounding oddly confused.

She narrowed her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What's the face for?"

"Root beer with cherries?" He asked. "Is that a thing?"

Still smiling, this time slyly, Des pushed the glass toward him.

"Try some."

"No thanks," he chuckled.

"Scared I have cooties?"

"I don't like root beer."

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

"Sorry," He shrugged a shoulder. "Can't stand it."

"Oh my god," Des exaggerated her shock, but there was a genuine surprise there underneath it. "I… I don't think we can be friends anymore." He eyed her, a grin curling the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart." Des said to her soda as she pulled it back to her side. "He's clearly a commie."

The laughter that burst from Grey was instant and filled with a level of surprise that made her laugh, too. He clearly wasn't expecting such a random statement.

"Seriously?"

Des's response was nothing more than looking up at him with big, innocent eyes as she sipped on her drink. Grey shook his head to himself, still apparently musing over her comment as he turned to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She suddenly called out. Grey turned and eyed her curiously. "Hey, so, do you know if there are any cheap tote-the-note places around here?"

"Tote-the-note?" He asked as he approached her once more.

"Yeah, those little wonky car dealerships. You know of any that are nice and cheap?"

His brows tugged together briefly. "Looking for a car?" She nodded. "How much are you wanting to spend?"

"A grand at the most."

He scowled slightly. "Oh, come on. You can't be that cheap."

She arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

"No, it's just…" He fumbled briefly when he realized what he'd said, and how it sounded. "You need something more reliable."

"I'm not worried about it." She said. And, if she was right, Des could've sworn a little of his soul died when she said that.

Grey sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. He looked so disappointed, as though she broke his heart when she said she wanted something cheap to drive. Did he think she was going to get something as terrible as Dex's Mustang?

Defeated, he finally said, "Yeah, I know a place." Grey turned and spotted Ansel filling the salt shakers. "Hey, bud." He walked towards her brother. "You wanna come with us, or hang out here for an hour or so?"

"Come where?" he asked.

Des leaned back so she could see him around Grey. "I'm going to go buy a piece of shit car."

Ansel chuckled and shook his head. "No thanks." His gaze shifted back to Grey. "Can I stay here?"

"Of course, man." Grey nodded. "You got my number and everything in case you need me?" Ansel nodded. "Okay, then we'll be back in a little while."

Grey gave Ansel a high five before he turned back to Des. "You wanna a to-go cup or something?" He asked a bit sarcastically.

Whether she just wanted to show off, or because of the teasing way he'd asked the question, Des did something she hadn't done since she was a teenager. Without a word, she lifted the drink to her lips and proceeded to drain the pint-sized glass much faster than someone should have drunk root beer. She chugged it, basically, and knew she'd regret it later, but she wanted to prove a point (or something else equally ridiculous).

When she'd finished, Des set the glass down and struggled not to belch like a caveman. She might make herself sick, but the surprised look on Grey's face made it worth it. For now. If she threw up root beer later, she might change her mind.

"No," the word sounded a little forced. Des had to clear her throat before she continued on. "I'm good."

Grey nodded slightly, "Sure."

With a small, albeit arrogant smile, she stood, stepped around him, and gave Ansel a hug. "Be back soon, man."

"Okay," He squeezed her hard. "Love you."

"Love you more." She said as they parted.

With a smile, Ansel replied, "Love you most."

Des smiled, too –wide and happily. "Impossible."

As she and Grey left, Des was sure to wave goodbye to Ansel. He waved back.

Outside, Grey walked with her to the parking lot. "Wanna take your car or mine?"

"We can take mine. If I find anything, I have to return it, anyway."

"Rental?"

She nodded.

* * *

The selection was… subpar, to say the least. The only good thing Grey could say was at least Des didn't seem as distracted by the color of the car as her sister had been. He still couldn't believe that she thought the vomit-orange Mustang was a good look.

As they wandered the small lot with the car dealer close behind, Des spotted something that seemed to finally hold her attention. Grey followed her line of sight. Off to the side and a little further back than the others was an busted-looking Chevy Blazer.

_Please don't, please, don't, please don't,_ he thought repeatedly to himself.

The Blazer looked awful. It was supposed to be black, but whoever painted it did a horrible job because through the chips, Grey could see that the original color was shit-brown. But no worries! Shit-brown was accentuated by a couple patches of surface rust, visible metal body, and clear coat that had bubbled away from the paint. It was missing three after-market hubcaps, the grill was dented in a way that told him it had become best friends with a deer, and there was a crack straight down the center of the windshield.

_Goddamn it_ he grumbled when Des, of course, approached it.

"You can't be serious." He said disapprovingly.

"I like old cars." She said.

"Yeah, well, this isn't supposed to be antiquing."

From her stance near the driver's side door, Grey noticed her smirk, but her interest in the old Blazer didn't seem to be wavering.

"Pretty sure this thing's older than you."

Des drew back and glanced at the huge '84 painted on the windshield. "By a few years, yeah." She nodded. Des looked at the car dealer. "What's wrong with it?"

A slimy smile immediately spread across the guy's face. "Absolutely nothing!" he beamed. "Original interior, original transmission, _and_ original motor."

Grey scowled as he looked at the man to his side. "That's not a good thing."

"Yeah," Des agreed. "You really shouldn't brag about that with a thirty-five-year-old truck."

Mr. Slimy's smile faltered just a bit, but he wasn't dissuaded. "But they're so reliable."

Grey shook his head openly and Des rolled her eyes. At least she wasn't fooled by his pitch. Unfortunately, she wasn't walking away from the turd-on-wheels.

And then she said something that made his heart sink.

"I need the keys."


	4. Someone's Watching

**AN:** I'm so glad you guys have found this story and you're enjoying it. Hope you like the new chapter.

**Four**

Des and Grey drove for a little while in the Blazer. They drove through town, down crowded streets with stoplights, and even down the freeway for a bit. They drove for probably a half an hour before they made it back to the dealership. Des liked the truck. She liked it a lot, actually, but she wasn't foolish enough to think it was worth much.

She and Grey approached the smiling dealer. She could feel Grey's disapproval with her selection, and he wasn't wrong, but while driving, Des never felt the transmission slip and she didn't hear any random knocks or taps. As far as she could tell, the engine and transmission had some time before they crapped out, which was helpful because Des knew she couldn't afford much in the ways of a vehicle and the rental was draining her cash.

"How much?" She asked him when the distance between them was minimal.

"For you?" He feigned mulling over a figure in his head. "Two thousand."

Both Grey and Des let out a scoff almost the same instant.

"Rip off." Grey said. Des agreed.

"Bullshit," She told the dealer so bluntly that he actually seemed surprised. "How long's that been on the lot, a week? Maybe two?"

He nodded slightly and shrugged a bit which told her that it might have been even less. Given how it looked, she knew it couldn't have been long. No dealership, not even one as cheap as the place she found herself in, would try to sell a vehicle that looked so terrible. That was the thing with dealerships. They do their best to make a vehicle _look_ perfect even if it wasn't and that Blazer looked like hell.

"So you would still have to pour a grand, maybe fifteen-hundred into it for a half-decent paintjob, replace the windshield which'll cost another couple hundred dollars, and the tires are damn-near bald." She told him. "But, if I take it now, you expect me to pay you two grand, then put another few grand into it? Basically, you're trying to sell me a thirty-five year-old truck with the original transmission and engine, which by the way would cost me even more to fix later on, for five thousand dollars. Is that right?"

The dealer looked at her with a slightly blank, slightly worried expression. But out of the corner of her eye, Des could see Grey stifling a smile, trying (and failing) to hide it in his beard.

"That truck is worth less than a thousand dollars, and you know it." She said to him.

The dealer's eyes darted to the truck. He was doing the math that she'd so plainly done for him already. She wasn't lying. Just to make it look presentable enough to be on the lot, they'd have to at least paint it, and that would likely cost the same as the truck's entire value.

"Maybe," He met her gaze again, "I can let it go for fifteen hundred."

Des's face twisted into disbelief. "I don't think so. If you want that thing gone before you have to dump more cash into it, you're going to have to drop it under a thousand."

"I can do one thou-"

"Under," Des said sharply.

The dealer's patience was growing thin and his agitation became more prominent. She could tell he didn't like her, and that was fine because she didn't like him either. Hopefully, she could simply play on his greed. Small dealerships especially didn't like to spend money unless needed.

"Why don't you tell me what you think is fair?" He asked tightly.

"Five hundred."

His shock was immediate. "No way. A thousand dollars, that's as low as I can go."

Des scoffed and shook her head. "Good luck then."

She turned with Grey at her side and made it only a few steps before the dealer called back to her.

"Wait, wait, wait." He said, forcing them to pause. Des turned to him. With clear frustration, he said, "Eight hundred."

Des thought on it briefly before she nodded. "Eight hundred."

The dealer led the way, and Grey and Des followed him inside. Des could tell Grey still didn't support her decision, but it didn't bother her. She just needed something to drive.

* * *

The pair made it to Bad Alibi little more than an hour after they left.

"I can't believe you bought this thing." Grey said as Des pulled into a parking spot. "You know it's going to break down all the time and I'm going to have to fix it just like I do with your sister's Mustang."

She threw the truck into park and gave him a sarcastic stare. "Dex makes you fix that piece of shit?"

"Isn't this kind of a pot-kettle situation?" He teased.

"Fair enough." Des smiled. "But nah, you won't. I can do the maintenance myself and anything big'll go to a shop. But hey, play your cards right and maybe I'll let you change my oil anyway."

Grey scoffed and shook his head while Des brandished a wide, uninhibited smile.

"Look, no payments, and insurance will be next to nothing. That coupled with no rent, and my expenses are almost nonexistent."

He eyed her curiously. "You don't strike me as the kind of person that counts pennies."

Her smile faltered slightly and Grey knew immediately that maybe his little joke wasn't much of one.

"Well, I'm kind of a fuck up." She said bluntly, much to his surprise. "And Dex went through a lot when we were growin' up, taking care of me and my messes so, while I'm here at least, I'm going to try and help out. The lower I can keep my own costs, the more I can give to her and Ansel."

He thought her answer was sweet, the way she wanted to help her siblings, but he didn't think she could have been that bad. Dex might not have told him much about her little sister, but what she had said didn't lead him to believe she was a one-woman hurricane. Then again, he'd only known the younger Parios for a week.

"So, you're going to try and stay on her good side or something?" He asked with a smile.

"I'll try, but it won't last long." She chuckled. "I mean, it'll probably piss her off when I sleep with you."

"Wait, what?"

Grey's brain genuinely stopped working for a moment. The statement was so utterly random that it, on its own, would've taken him a second, but the fact that she was so flippant about them possibly sleeping together rebooted his whole system.

Des was in the process of stepping out of the truck when he finally managed to speak and paused when he had.

"Oh, yeah." Her voice was still chipper. "I'm going to try and sleep with you at some point. Cool?"

"Uh…" He wasn't sure what to say. "I… guess?"

As she had so many times before, Des gave him a wide smile.

"Cool." She nodded. And with that, she slammed the door and headed inside without bothering to wait for him.

Grey was slow to follow for obvious reasons. He still had trouble catching up with everything that took mere seconds to transpire.

If there was one thing that was becoming _abundantly_ clear, it was that Desdemona Parios was a lot of personality. She seemed to speak her mind regardless of how it came across and if he hadn't been initiated into that kind of insanity by Dex, he could have easily been swept away by the craziness. That didn't mean he was entirely prepared for her, though.

By the time he made it inside, Des was talking to Ansel about her new truck.

"So, what's its name?" Ansel asked.

"I haven't decided yet." She replied.

"You uh," Grey said when he met them at the bar where they stood. "You name your cars?"

"Yeah," She said as though _he_ was the weird one. "Got any ideas?"

"I don't know," He shrugged. "Shit Box?"

Des smiled and laughed. She glanced to Ansel, who was smiling wide, too.

"What do you think?" She asked him.

Ansel held his hand up, palm open, and tilted it from side to side, silently telling her _meh_.

"Oh, I see how it is." Grey said, causing both of them to laugh a little.

"We'll think of something." Des said. "Hey, you need me to pick you up later, or is Dex gonna do it?"

"I think Dex is." Ansel replied.

"Okay, well, if you need me to for some reason, give me a call, okay?" She told him. Ansel nodded. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Love you more." She gave him a wink as she turned. "See you later." She told Grey.

"Yeah," he nodded. For a moment, he was content to let her go until he remembered something he was astounded he'd forgotten. "Wait, hey." Grey jogged after her the few yards she'd walked. Des turned to face him. "What you said earlier,"

She grinned a little at his discomfort with the moment. "About planning to sleep with you?"

"Yeah, that." Grey widened his stance and pressed his fingertips together as he tried to think about what to say.

Des waited, still smirking just a little while he struggled to find the words. She seemed to find the whole thing amusing and he had to admit, he probably would too if it wasn't happening to him.

"If it makes you that uncomfortable," she finally said, "Then consider it a joke, okay?"

Grey nodded because he wasn't sure what else to do. "Sure,"

"I'll see you later."

He waved to her briefly as she headed out. When she was gone, he went back to work, but it was difficult to shake the conversation he'd had with Des.

Was it wrong that he kinda hoped she wasn't joking? It felt like it should've been wrong.

* * *

Before Des headed home, she stopped off at the grocery store. The cabinets and fridge at home were the "Dex Special" which meant they weren't bare, just that the family would starve in a day or two if they had to rely on what was in there.

She bought the essentials: Hamburger Helper, macaroni and cheese, Ramen, bread with sandwich fixings, etc. As she made her way down the cereal aisle, Des caught sight of someone standing at the far end looking over the oatmeal. It wouldn't have meant anything to her most days, but she'd seen the guy a handful of times already. Granted, the grocery store wasn't all that big, not a big box store like Costco or something, but it was still odd to see the same guy down every aisle.

Des had noticed him first when she grabbed a couple pounds of cheap ground beef. He looked like a normal shopper –a middle-aged guy with brown hair, and plain clothes- but he was _always there_. It was weird.

When she found the pop tarts, Des looked over the different kind of flavors. They had the staples like strawberry, cherry, and blueberry, and then the strange ones like s'mores, and chocolate swirl. They even had frosting-less pop tarts. What kind of sadist opted for the ones without frosting? Monsters.

Pop tarts were _buy two get one free with a coupon_, so Des snatched a coupon from the dispenser and tossed three boxes of blueberry into her cart. She hoped they were still Ansel's favorite. It'd been a while since she'd been around, but Ansel didn't like change so they were a safe bet.

She needed a box of cereal too, but decided to test a theory. Des left the aisle and wandered seemingly aimlessly towards the dairy section. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she caught sight of the guy, but he was sure to stay far enough away. Des felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She needed more proof, though.

Pretending that she'd forgotten something, Des went back to the cereal aisle and stood in front of the ridiculous selection. As her eyes danced over the colorful boxes, some with cartoon animals and some without, Des saw him again. The same guy as before was standing at the end of the aisle looking over whatever they had on the end-caps. She knew, right then and there, that he was in fact following her.

Her fingers began to tingle and her skin crawled as she was filled with the same anxiety that followed her that night at the bar. Des still had a few things she needed to pick up, but her trip was over. Knowing that he'd be right there behind her, Des headed for the cashiers.

As she was checked out, Des had a clear view of the self-checkout, and lo-in-behold. Once or twice, he glanced over his shoulder under the guise of bagging his stuff, but he did it to keep sure she was there. When he finished his checkout, he left the store, but Des knew he was likely waiting somewhere out of sight to see where she'd go.

After paying, Des wheeled her cart out to the parking lot. There weren't a whole lot of cars there, and the ones that were were spread out. While she loaded the back of her truck, Des wasn't as surprised as she should have been to see the guy loading his two bags into his black sedan. Des was angry, she was angry and scared, and had finally had enough.

Without bothering to close the hatch, Des crossed the two lanes between her and the guy, and was at the driver's side window just as he turned the car on. She wrapped her knuckles against the glass and he rolled it down shortly after.

"Look, I don't have any spare cash," He said with an agitated tone, "So if you need gas money, or grocery money, or whatever, you're going to have to ask someone else."

"That's cute," She said with an edge. "Look, I don't know why you're following me, but-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He interrupted.

Des met his gaze and held it. Any false kindness was gone and she let that fear and anger shine through.

"But I'm going to go home and if I see this car anywhere near me," Her voice was cold, "I'm going to take that .38 I have under my driver's seat," a lie, "and I'm going to shoot out all four tires, and your engine. You hear me?"

He stared up at her. Des couldn't tell if he was struggling with the idea of telling the truth, or keeping up the charade. When he spoke again, she had her answer.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but I'm going to call the cops if you don't back off."

She flashed an insincere smile. "Go ahead. I'm dating a cop," another lie. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear what I have to say." The guy flinched. "So, yeah, if I see you, or this car again, okay?" He was slow to nod, but did. "Great!" Des beamed. She patted the top of the car briskly. "You have a good day, okay? Bye-bye now."

And with that, she returned to her Blazer, slammed the hatch shut, and left. The whole drive home, she kept her eye open for the little black sedan. Wisely, he didn't follow her.

* * *

Dex pulled up to the house and was immediately presented with something that irritated her. In the driveway was perhaps one of the ugliest SUVs she'd ever seen.

"Oh, come on." She grumbled to herself as she threw her car into park. Dex somehow knew already that the piece of shit was her sister's new car.

When she made her way inside, she saw her sister in the kitchen putting up groceries.

"Tell me that thing isn't yours." Dex said despite already knowing otherwise.

"Quasimodo? Yeah, he's mine."

"Quasimodo?"

Desi smiled. "Yeah."

Dex shook her head. "What is it with you and naming your cars?"

"It gives them personality." Des replied as she put the bread away.

"Yeah, well, that thing has plenty of _personality_ already." Dex said with a sigh as she took a seat at the bar. Desi smiled a little again, but it was weighted, and Dex noticed. "You okay?"

She looked up and nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Dex narrowed her eyes. She could tell something wasn't right, but she couldn't pinpoint what. It didn't seem like anything big, something life-changing or anything like that, but something was definitely off. The protective older sister in her was given a spark of life.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Des chuckled slightly. "I'm totally fine."

Dex slowly nodded. She didn't believe her sister at all, but she knew better than to press. She and Desi were the same in that regard. If someone pushed, they'd shut down and get pissed. In the end, it wasn't worth the fight it'd cause.

"Okay," Dex nodded. "Thanks for the groceries."

"Sure. I've got no problem chipping in, you know that."

Dex gave her a small smile, which her sister returned. She still couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not that her sister was back, but whatever, right? Family is family.

* * *

Elsewhere, inside a black sedan:

The phone rang and rang until someone finally picked up on the other end of the line.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff when he spoke.

"Hey, it's John Sibus."

"Yeah, what can I do for you?"

He peered through the windshield at the small, two-story white and blue Craftsman-styled house across the street. There was a shitty red Mustang parked out front and an equally beaten and battered Chevy Blazer in the driveway.

"I found your girl." He said.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Where is she?"

"She's gone home." John replied.

"You're sure it's her?"

"Oh yeah," John reached over and picked up a picture of the young woman he'd been given as reference and it was a spitting image of the one who'd threatened him in the parking lot. "I'm sure." He tossed it back down. "From what I can tell, she's living with two other people, a woman and some kid, a boy."

"Her brother and sister, yeah." He said. "Look, keep an eye on her for me, okay? Make sure she doesn't skip town."

"For how long?"

"A couple of days, maybe a week. At least until I can get everything squared away over here."

"That's not gonna be cheap."

"Yeah, add it to my tab." He shot back a bit angrily.

The line went dead and John knew the conversation was over. He set his phone down and turned his attention back to the house across the way. It wouldn't be hard to follow such a noticeable truck. The beast sort of stuck out.


	5. Last Call

**AN: **Super long, and there's a little bit of smutty-smut further down. If that's not your thing, then when it starts getting that way, just stop reading because it's basically the rest of the chapter from that point. Anyway, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Five**

The following week, it was a little after eleven o'clock when Dex showed arrived to take Ansel home. While he was in the back finishing up, Desi walked through the front door. Sometimes Grey marveled at the fact that, at any point of the day, the entire Parios family was under his roof. This time, however, Des wasn't alone. She was with a small group of people, one guy had an arm around her, but she excused herself and approached them. The people she was with went to grab a booth in the meantime.

"Well, aren't you lookin' fancy." Dex said sarcastically about the dress her sister was wearing. "Who's your friend?"

"Just some guy." She replied as she leaned against the bar beside Dex. She gave Grey a smile in acknowledgement which he returned.

"_Just some guy_? Seriously?" The mild sarcasm from before doubled, if not tripled, after Des's declaration.

The younger Parios eyed the elder. "Is that judgment, Dex? Really?"

"Yeah, fair enough." Dex nodded. "How long you known him?"

"Met him earlier today. He asked me to come hang out with him and his friends, so, why not?"

Dex looked at Grey with a knowing, sarcastic eye. He could practically hear her disapproval in his head. It wasn't disapproval in the fact that her sister had found some random guy to hang out with. Grey couldn't see Dex being overly judgmental about something she did often. The disapproval in his head was more along the lines of, _that guy doesn't know what he'd gotten himself in to._

"You look pretty, Desi." Ansel said when he approached his sister from behind.

She turned to face him. "Thanks, man. You heading home?"

"Yeah," Ansel nodded. "I'm off work now. Are you coming home, too?"

"No, bud, not for a little while. I'm here with some friends."

Ansel glanced to the table she'd nonchalantly motioned to. "Are they nice?"

"I don't know yet. We'll have to wait and see."

"Well, regardless, you ready to head out, buddy?" Dex asked him. Ansel nodded. "And you," she looked at her sister, "behave, okay?"

Desi openly and sarcastically rolled her eyes before she gave Ansel a big hug and then rejoined the people she'd come in with. Dex stared over her shoulder at the table with a skeptical, stern sort of look.

"Hey, Grey," She met his gaze. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure." He nodded.

"Can you keep an eye on Des for me?" She asked in a way that let him know she wasn't happy about the prospect.

He arched a brow. "You serious?"

"Yeah," She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I know that it sounds like I'm some overprotective sister or something, but trust me, bad things tend to follow Des around."

"Runs in the family, hm?" Grey teased.

Dex glared slightly, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Just watch her for me."

Grey nodded. "Sure."

"Thanks," She seemed genuinely relieved. "Come on, bud. Let's go."

"Okay," Ansel replied. "Bye Grey."

"Bye, buddy."

He waved to them both and watched them leave. When they were gone, Grey's gaze drifted to the table where Des and her new "friends" sat. They looked like an average group of people in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. In fact, half of them looked like typical snobs. It was hard to describe, but Grey had the feelings that some of them, especially the one that seemed to cling to Des the most, were the stereotypical "popular kids" in school.

Grey couldn't see how the young woman could somehow turn the five people she was with into a pack of fighting animals, but that seemed to be exactly what Dex was warning him would happen.

Shaking his head to himself, Grey went back to work.

* * *

About an hour had passed before Des made her way to the bar with the clear intent to talk to him.

"Hey," He greeted when she was near.

"Hey,"

Des slid onto a stool, crossed her arms over the bar, and leaned onto them. While she kept her eyes locked with his, her lips curled back into a wide smile. In it, Grey couldn't help but feel like there was something she wanted, and judging by the smile, it wasn't going to be something he liked.

"What?" He asked skeptically.

"So, here's the thing,"

_Here we go_, he thought to himself.

"Those guys over there," She said, but didn't point in their direction. Grey glanced briefly, but kept his attention primarily on her. "We have a bet going and uh… it kind of involves you."

Grey's brows rose curiously. He placed his hands on the bar as casually as he could despite the odd feeling he had creeping up his spine.

"Oh, yeah?" He asked. She nodded. "What about me?"

"Well, they don't know I know you or… y'know, work here,"

He chuckled a little at that.

"So they bet me I couldn't flirt my way into a round of shots of something top shelf."

"That a fact?"

She nodded and reached forward. Des glided the tip of her finger down the length of his forearm. If he were on the outside looking in, he would see it as flirting, which was probably the point. As it was, it was strange. That was the first and only form of physical contact the two had ever shared, a fact that was made almost painfully obvious in that moment.

"Top shelf, huh? For free?"

"Candice, the blonde," she tilted her head marginally in the direction of the table. As he had before, Grey was sure to look discreetly. He spotted her easily. The blonde was _very_ blonde. "Said that if it comes down to it, I should offer a kiss as payment."

Grey was shocked and knew he didn't catch it in time to hide it from the people watching. He couldn't help it. He hadn't expected that to be her response.

"A kiss?" He repeated the word as though it'd help him.

"Jesus, you don't have to act like it's _that_ bad."

"No, it-" His words fell away. Grey's head dipped and he let out a nervous laugh before he met her gaze again. "Just took me by surprise, is all."

"Right," Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Cause that's the weirdest thing I've e_ver_ said to you before."

"Good point," He nodded. "So, six shots of top shelf, for what? What do you get out of it?"

"Fifty bucks a piece." She replied. "Two-fifty in total."

Grey was surprised by what they were willing to shell out if she won the bet. Not only would that be enough to pay for the shots themselves, but offering fifty bucks made it sound like they didn't think she was either attractive enough, or charming enough to manage. That was ridiculous to Grey. As far as he was concerned, both Parios women were more than capable of flirting free shots out of any bartender.

"I'll use my winnings to pay for them, obviously." She told him.

"Of course," He wasn't really sure what else to say.

A minute passed, and then two, and still Grey didn't offer an answer. It got to the point where he could tell Des was beginning to worry because she was probably afraid to lose face.

"Well?" She finally asked.

Her voice shocked him back into the moment. "Yeah, sure."

He was a little surprised with his answer, but he felt he knew her well enough to know that if she said she'd pay for them, she would. Besides, Grey had no problem helping her win a stupid bet. What were friends for?

Des smiled sweetly which caused him to do the same.

"Give me a sec."

Grey retrieved six shot glasses and then paused in front of liquor. He thought only briefly about what he would choose before simply grabbing a twenty-five-year-old whiskey. He proceeded to pour the shots and when he was done, he set the bottle aside.

"There you go." He told her with a smile.

"Thanks,"

As Des pushed the shot glasses together and threaded her fingers through them so she could lift the lot at once, a thought crossed Grey's mind. He didn't give himself enough time to dwell on it, or change his mind. The words just came out.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked. She glanced up at him in confusion. "Didn't the blonde say you should give me a kiss for those?"

For the first time since meeting her, Grey was finally able to surprise her. He'd cherish the shocked expression, even though it faded quickly enough. Soon, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.

"You sure about that?" She asked in a tone to match.

Grey, still smirking, shrugged nonchalantly. Her smile broadened.

"Okay," Des set the shot glasses back down and stepped onto the small metal bar that ran along the bottom of the counter. It gave her enough height for her to comfortably lean over. "Then come here."

The apprehension came quickly, as did second thoughts, but Grey knew he was beyond the point of no return. Besides, what better excuse to kiss someone than a bet?

Grey leaned forward, too. The distance between them slowly shrank until his eyes naturally drifted shut. Des's lips brushed his a split second before she kissed him. They were soft and full, and he felt an unexpected rush from the simple contact.

The kiss couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but when they drew back from one another, Des was sure to give him one more, tenderly taking his bottom lip between hers. A jolt of excitement trickled down his spine and radiated through him as they finally parted.

"Thanks," She said as she threaded her fingers through the glasses again.

Still in a bit of a daze, Grey replied, "Sure."

Des gave him a smile before she walked away. Grey watched her return to her group. All of them seemed fairly amused, some smiling, some laughing, but the guy she'd been spending the majority of her time with looked a little annoyed. He even cast Grey a glance that told the bartender he was not a fan.

Unsure of what else to do, Grey decided to just go back to work. Maybe the kiss was a bad idea? He didn't think he'd like it as much as he did.

* * *

Last call finally came and the majority of the patrons had already left. Most of Des's "friends" had left, too. All that remained, really, was Des and her guy. Grey didn't know the guy's name and he doubted he ever would, but for some reason, at least in his head, he'd been calling him Keith. He looked like a Keith.

Throughout the night, Keith-Whoever hung on Des. He kept his arm wrapped around her shoulder and if there were more than a few inches of space between them, he'd pull her back to his side. More than once, Grey saw how irritated she was, but she never said anything. It looked like she was putting up with it just long enough for him to leave. Grey had a feeling that once they parted for the night, Keith-Whoever would never hear from her again.

Something about the guy rubbed Grey the wrong way and as the pair headed for the door, he couldn't help himself. Maybe he was being petty, maybe he just felt like being a dick. Whatever the reason, Grey just wanted to poke the beast.

"Hey, Des," He called out when they reached the door. She turned to face him. "Don't forget you're working the lunch shift tomorrow."

Keith-Whoever stiffened while Des glared lightly at him.

"Angie," Keith-Whoever said, "You two know each other?"

Grey snorted, which drew the increasingly-angry guy's attention.

"She told you her name was Angie?" He asked without bothering to remove his grin.

There's a moment when a person's patience grows so thin that it snaps. Grey could see that moment and knew that he might have overstepped just a bit. Most people would've just been a bit angry, a bit annoyed at being lied to. Not this guy. Keith-Whoever went from "normal" to "psycho" real fucking quick.

"You scammed me." He growled at her. She remained silent as she arched a brow. "You fucking bitch."

"Whoa!" Grey's voice sliced through the growing tension. "Back off, dude." He glared over his shoulder at the bartender. "I think you should go."

"Fuck that!" He snapped. His attention sharpened on Des. To Grey's shock, he actually reached out and grabbed her by her arms. "Give me my goddamn money."

Grey's hand slid beneath the counter. He felt the cold steel of his baseball bat and quickly wrapped his fingers around it, all the while sure to keep his eye on Keith-Whoever.

"Get off of me!"

Des practically screamed as she shoved him away. He stumbled back a step, but took her with him. With bat in hand, Grey bounded around the bar and was at her side in an instant.

"Hey!" He shoved at Keith-Whoever which finally forced him to let Des go. Grey stood between the pair and made sure his bat was visible. "Get the hell out of my bar, now."

There was no hesitation, no pause, just a fist to the side of the head and the cold concrete to greet him a second later. The guy was quick, quick enough that Grey hadn't even seen him rear back to throw the punch in the first place, which cost him. If someone was expecting a punch, even if it's on a small level, the body preps for it. When it's not, the opposite happens. No matter how good a person was at taking a hit, not expecting it could send anyone reeling.

Grey's head throbbed. It felt as though it would explode. The punch had taken him off his feet and left him dazed.

Worse yet, it hadn't knocked him out. That would have been preferable, but apparently Keith-Whoever wasn't strong enough. As a result, Grey was stuck in that weird slightly-coherent, uncoordinated state. He knew what he wanted to do, but couldn't manage the task, nor could he actually focus on anything.

Through the fog, the haze Keith-Whoever had left him in, Grey heard Des shout. He heard a shuffle and when he looked up, he saw a flash of silver. There was a scream and that seemed to be enough to bring him back to reality. In an instant, Grey's eyes found focus, and what he saw was both terrifying and made him want to smile.

"Get out!" Des yelled as she brought the bat against Keith-Whoever's bicep for a second time.

Keith-Whoever cussed and cursed and said a thousand different things, but he was forced out of the bar by a five-foot-something young woman with a bat. The moment he was outside, Des slammed the door shut and locked it. Grey had, meanwhile, managed to roll himself onto his ass so he could sit. It didn't help steady his aching brain.

The moment her eyes fell to him, Des's rage disappeared. She rushed to him and knelt down at his side.

"Jesus," She muttered as she tenderly touched his face. Grey winced and she immediately stopped. "How's it feel?"

He hoped he was able to show her just how stupid that particular question was, but, in truth, Grey wasn't entirely certain he managed to do anything with his face at that moment.

"Come on,"

Des hooked her arms under his and hoisted Grey to his feet. The sudden shift in altitude forced the blood to flee his head. The world blinked out of existence for a second, which was more than enough for him to stumble.

"I need to sit down." He grumbled.

"I know," She replied as she threaded one of his arms around her neck. "That's what I'm trying to do."

He had no choice but to follow her lead. Thankfully, he was rewarded for the effort shortly after. A few steps later, Des let him fall into a booth not far from where he'd been hit.

"I'll be right back."

"Yup," He mumbled, but she was already gone.

Grey groaned. He leaned forward and let his forehead rest against the cool wooden table. It helped soothe his growing headache. It'd been a long time since Grey had been punched in the face, long enough that he'd forgotten how it felt. The pain of it was hard to describe because it didn't hurt, it ached. It was the sort of ache that he felt with each heartbeat and made him want to vomit.

"Sit back."

As before, he did what he was told. Grey heaved himself up, leaned back in the overstuffed seat, and closed his eyes to cope. He couldn't see any of what was happening around him, but heard something odd. Somehow, Grey had managed to pry open a single eye just in time to see Des climb onto the table. She sat across from him, planting a foot on either side of his thighs. His brows pulled together.

"What are you doing?"

Des met his eye with a stern expression. Without a word, she opened her left hand to reveal a frozen square of blue gel. While her gaze remained fixed to his, Des punched the packet and smooshed it repeatedly.

In a soft voice, she said, "Come here."

Grey obliged. He leaned forward just as she did and met her in the middle. Des reached forward with her free hand and tenderly held his bearded-jaw while the other lowered the gel pack over his bruising face. Out of reflex, Grey winced and sucked in a sharp breath. Des hesitated.

"It's fine," He said as reassuringly as he could muster.

With a nod, she pressed it to his face. The relief was immediate. He let out a sigh and relaxed into the soft, bitterly-cold gel.

For a minute or two, Des let him relish in the feeling of it. She let him enjoy it, at first.

"You shouldn't have taunted him." She said. Grey pried open his good eye to look up at her. "He didn't need to know I stole his money."

"He was an asshole."

The corner of her lips curled into a smile. "Yeah, you're not wrong."

Des's attention went back to the task at hand. She concentrated on keeping the ice pack on his face. Grey couldn't help but stare at her. In truth, there was little else he _could_ do, so he chose that. She looked so determined, so focused, that it made him smile a little. The action didn't go unnoticed.

"Hm?" She asked.

"Nothing," He replied. Des didn't seem to believe him, and as far as lies went, it wasn't a very well-constructed one. It didn't matter. She clearly knew as much and arched a skeptical brow. "Seriously," he chuckled, "It's nothing."

"But?" She asked as she returned the gel pack to his eye.

"I was just thinking about the first time I got punched in the eye. I was like, twelve."

"Really?" Her face scrunched up when she spoke.

"You don't have to sound so shocked." He scoffed.

"No, it's just you do have a really punchable face. Figured it would've happened sooner."

"Thanks," He said flatly. Des smiled sweetly at him, a clear sign that she'd been teasing him.

"So, what happened?"

"Oh, uh," He thought back and grinned a little to himself again. "Charlie Jackson. He was my best friend at the time and uh, we got into a fight 'cuz I kissed the girl he liked."

"You dog."

"Yeah," he chuckled again. "Reared back and punched me right in the eye."

"Awe," Her voice dripped with slightly sarcastic sympathy. "Poor thing."

"Nah," He sighed. "I deserved it. Tore us apart, though." He was sure to add the appropriate sadness for a relationship that ended over twenty years prior. Des smiled and shook her head again. "Would've helped if he told me he liked her in the first place."

"Probably," She giggled a little. "What happened afterward?"

"Mom kissed the black eye and took me for ice cream." Grey shrugged a shoulder. "Not too bad, all things considered."

"Well, I don't think there's any ice cream, but I can get you a cold beer instead."

"What about the kiss?"

Her brows rose as she stared down at him. Grey wanted to backpedal almost immediately, but he didn't. The fact that she didn't instantly look offended or hit him in the busted eye intrigued him enough that Grey wanted to hear what her answer might be before he played it off as a joke.

"You kidding me?"

Grey didn't know how, but he was oddly aware that he had some leeway. Maybe it was the comment she made a while back about planning to sleep with him? Nah. It was probably the fact that they'd already kissed once that night.

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to kiss you."

"You did before." He said with a smirk.

"You serious?" She asked with an uncertain grin.

"Yeah," He shrugged a shoulder. "Why not? It's your fault."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. "_You're_ the one who started it."

"That's your opinion."

Des snorted a small laugh and shook her head at him.

"Oh, come on." Grey stuck out his bottom lip and mocked a pout. "It hurts."

"You're an idiot." The grin on her lips told him that, while true, she didn't mind his idiocy.

But, she seemed to think over his request regardless until finally coming to a solution. Des turned just enough to toss the gel pack onto the table. When she faced him once more, she motioned for him to lean forward. Grey obliged.

As before, Des cradled the side of his face and drew him closer. His eyes closed while she tenderly kissed his cheekbone. Grey felt another jolt, another shock of something unfamiliar rush through him because of the simple contact. The air between them had shifted, too, slowly becoming thicker with that same feeling that had seeped in when they'd kissed earlier in the night.

When she drew back, it wasn't by much, and he could tell she sensed the change, too. The bluish-grey of her eyes had darkened just a bit. Grey knew he had to seize the opportunity while it was still presented to him.

He inched closer. Des didn't move. Her lips parted on a breath and that was all the prompting he needed. Grey kissed her. The kiss lasted seconds at most, but that seemed to be all that was needed.

Eventually, she drew back just enough to break the contact, but kept close enough that her forehead brushed his. Grey felt her moving, felt her shifting, and was quickly aware of what she was doing. Fluidly, Des left the table completely, and slipped into his lap. Almost immediately after, she kissed him once again.

Grey wrapped his arms around her body and held her close while they attempted to devour one another. It was sudden and enveloping. It threatened to consume him and he wanted to let it.

Passion wasn't a common thing as an adult. You might meet someone you're attracted to, hook up with them, and maybe you'll feel something like passion. If you're lucky, you won't be going through the motions. Grey hadn't felt anything beyond relative indifference in a long time. Sure, he'd had fun with a few women he'd met through the years, a lot of them one-night-stands, but this was different. This was something else.

His hands climbed up her back. He felt the heat of her burn through her dress, felt it against the palms of his hands, and where the apex of her thighs ground against him. Grey wanted to go through his skin in the best way, until he heard her make a certain sound. When his fingers plowed through her hair and he cradled the back of her head, Des let out a whimpering sort of whine, a strange sound that his foggy brain couldn't identify it.

Through half-opened eyes, he looked up at her. "What?" His voice was deep and twisted with an undeniable desire that he was shocked affected him so much.

She stared down at him with the same level of intensity, her lips bee-stung and begging to be kissed again, and her skin tinted rose.

"I," her voice hitched when she spoke, "My hair," his grip instantly loosened, but his hand remained at the back of her head. "I love it pulled."

The apprehension and worry he'd felt only a millisecond previously vanished just as quickly. He swelled with confidence and determination. Grey knew what he wanted and acted accordingly.

"Oh, yeah?" He asked with a slight growl.

Des nodded softly and as though he wanted to test that theory, Grey fisted her hair and pulled. Des's head snapped back, her chest arched toward him, and lips parted as she let out a sultry, delicious sound. While he held her head back, Grey groped her body. His free hand glided over her chest, up to her throat, and back down again -all the while she made those wonderful sounds.

Eventually, Grey loosened his hold just enough she could move. She lifted her head, and he dove for her throat. Des cradled him to her while he kissed and nipped at her neck.

As they climbed and clawed toward a fever pitch, Des finally moved. She rolled her head to the side, which pried his lips from her neck so she could claim them for herself. While they kissed, Grey felt her hands between them. She began to frantically undo his belt and his jeans. He did the same, yanking and tugging at the sash that kept her dress on. Grey knew it was something called a "wrap dress". He had no idea how the hell women put them on, but he was determined to get it off.

Somehow, he managed to untie her dress and opened it just as she'd undone his jeans. Grey didn't have a chance to admire her body, or to see much beyond the dark blue bra before he felt her grab him. The moment her hand encircled his dick, Grey's mind cleared –a sensation that was even more pronounced a second later.

Des let out a soft, whimpering moan as he slid into her with ease. Her fingers bit into his shoulders and that slight pain was all he could focus on. He needed it to keep his wits because he was at risk of losing himself.

There was no hesitation on her part, though. Des wasn't as effected as he'd been, and if she was, she recovered sooner. Grey clutched almost desperately at her hips while she began to rock in his lap.

Under his breath, Grey muttered, "Goddamn it."

He wished to hell that she would give him a minute, a second, of time to cope, but she didn't. Instead, he was along for the ride, whether he was prepared for it or not.

Des thrust her hips into him with expert precision while Grey simply sat back and handed over the reins. The most he could manage was to hold on and bring her sharply against him.

His ears filled with the gasping sounds of pleasure that escaped Des. They were as hypnotic and overwhelming as everything thus far, and helped fuel his desire. Grey held her so close. He kissed her neck and any bare skin he could. His fingers dug into her to what had to be a painful degree, but Des didn't make a sound of protest. Instead, she sped up. Grey knew that it wouldn't be long for him.

He yanked down on her hair hard, harder than he'd initially meant to, but it didn't matter. When Des cried out, it was a sound of pure ecstasy, something he knew because her body went entirely rigid. She came in an instant. For a breath, maybe two, every muscle in her seemed to go completely still, and just as suddenly, she relaxed against him.

Grey had lasted only a few thrusts before he followed her into oblivion. He bit back a growl and he threw Des down on him the final time. His mind cleared, his heart felt as though it wanted to explode within his chest, and his body spasmed. Eventually, he too relaxed. When he slumped back into the plush surface of the bench, Grey could feel her trembling around him.

Grey's head rested against his seat, his eyes were shut, and his jaw was lax as he struggled to catch his breath.

_Jesus Christ,_ he thought to himself.

Des had fallen against his chest, curled into him like she too needed something, anything, to help steady herself. He could feel her arms crossed between them and her head on his shoulder. All he could do in response was hold her with his hands spread wide across her back.

What had only lasted a few shorts minutes, had somehow left Grey completely exhausted and satiated. It was passionate and explosive and new. It was overwhelming, and all Grey wanted to do now was fall asleep as he was. He didn't want to move, ever.

Minutes ticked by and his consciousness slipped further and further away when a horrible, grating sound tore through that delicious haze. Both Grey and Des jumped at first. He was a bit confused, admittedly, but when he heard the sound again, he knew it was only his phone. The bar's landline was screaming at him to be answered.

"I, uh," Grey's voice was quiet, and slightly awkward given the situation.

"Yeah," Des said in the same tone.

She crawled off of his lap, sliding deeper into the booth so that he could stand. Grey, more or less, scampered away while he pulled his jeans and shoved himself back into them. The phone had been ringing for long enough that Grey, when he reached his bar, practically dove over the surface to answer it.

"Yeah?" He barked into the receiver.

"Where the fuck is my sister?"

The harsh, angry tone of Dex's voice sent a genuine bolt of fear racing through Grey's body. His muscles tensed, his heart began to palpitate, and sweat immediately formed on his brow.

_She knows, she knows, she knows,_ he thought repeatedly to himself.

Grey's mouth hung slack. The words were there, they wanted to come forward, but they were caught behind the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"Where is she, Grey?" She snapped when a minute or more had passed without him speaking.

He opened his mouth again, and somehow managed to let lose a squeak. Words were, however, impossible until he heard something from behind. Grey turned just in time to see the front door latch shut. Des was gone, all traces of her gone as well, and somehow that gave him the strength to speak.

"She's not here." He finally got out.

Dex let out a long, loud, obnoxious growl. "Where is she?"

"Don't know." He said. "She already left."

_True enough_, he thought to himself. _Dex doesn't need to know that she left five seconds ago._

"Shit," she hissed.

Grey opened his mouth to speak again, though he didn't know what to say, but the dial tone stopped him. Pulling the phone from his face, he eyed it for a moment before he simply set it down.

Alone, Grey locked the door once again. His mind almost immediately drifted back to what happened with Des less than three minutes ago. Grey fell onto the nearest stool and found himself staring aimlessly into the room.

_I just had sex with Des…_ he thought as he ran his hand down his face. _Shit._


	6. Rockin' 70s

**AN:** Hey guys! Here's number Six, and where I'm going to start tying this into the show. Let me know what you think and please enjoy!

PS: Don't be too hard on Dex, lol. Ya gotta see it from her point of view.

**Six**

The following morning, Dex jogged downstairs and was immediately annoyed with what she saw. There was a tangle of limbs and blankets sprawled out over the couch, and she didn't have to bother guessing who it was.

Dex stared at her sister with that level of disapproval and disappointment that could only come from knowing someone for the entirety of their lives. Yesterday, she'd called Desi a dozen times, maybe more, and she hadn't picked up. She'd been looking for her for so long that she had no choice but the call the bar, and still her sister wasn't there. Dex gave up after that and went to bed. Apparently, Desi snuck in some time later and passed out on the couch.

The knock on the door brought Dex back into the moment. When she answered it, she was glad to see Grey standing on the front step.

She smiled and with a heavy, tired sigh, she said, "Hey."

"Morning." Grey chuckled.

Dex stepped aside and waved her arm, silently beckoning him into the house. Grey did as she asked, tugging his sunglasses off in the process. Dex closed the door, moved around him, and headed toward the kitchen.

"So," Grey said as he followed. "What's the problem?"

"I don't know." She grumbled. "The damn disposal just stopped working. It just hums now."

"What'd you put down it?" Grey asked with a knowing tone.

Dex immediately plastered her most innocent expression across her face, ready to spout her many excuses, but it faded when she turned around and saw what Grey had hidden under his sunglasses: a black eye. Dex's jaw went tight as she scowled.

"What happened there, hm?" She asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"Oh, this?" He pointed to the blemish. "Nothing, it's fine."

Dex sucked on her teeth as she nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, something tells me that's Des's handiwork."

Grey scoffed and eyed her like she was crazy. It rang hollow. "You think your sister punched me in the face?"

"Oh, no," her laugh held absolutely no kindness or joy. "No, I don't, but I know she's the reason for it, isn't she?"

He chewed on his bottom lip and hesitated to answer. Even though she knew he was willing to lie, probably to keep her from getting angry, his lack of response was all the answer she needed.

"God damn it," she snapped. Dex instantly grabbed a tall glass and filled it with water from the tap. "She always does this, _always_."

"Look, it wasn't her fault, okay?"

"Oh, it never is." Dex said tightly. She opened the freezer and dropped a handful of ice cubes into the glass. After she slammed it shut, she turned to Grey again. "You know why I was looking for her last night?"

Grey's shoulders slumped. She could tell he knew she was in the middle of a tangent and that the wisest thing to do was just step aside.

"No," He muttered.

"Because I got a call from a cop, a detective, from Nashville." Her anger was growing. "He told me that she's wanted for questioning in connection with a case he's working. Grand Larceny, Grey. She's wanted for Grand Larceny because she stole her ex's stuff, sold it, then skipped town."

He didn't reply, but she could see how badly the good-guy in him wanted to defend her. He didn't, though. Grey didn't say anything.

"And I was stupid enough to think this time might be different." Dex shook her head disappointedly. "But it's just the same old shit."

Without another word, she charged into the living room a few yards away, yanked the blanket off of her sleeping sister, and proceeded to dump the contents of the glass all over her. As one would expect, Desi shot up, gasping for air and stifling a scream of shock. She panted and breathed heavily for a few seconds, clearly doing her best to remember where the hell she was, until her gaze finally landed on Dex. Dex shot her a sarcastic smile.

"Mornin'." She chimed. The smile faded quickly. "Get your ass up."

"What the fuck, Dex?" Desi sighed. She wiped her hands down her face and then back over her head to get her hair out of the way. "What's that for?"

"Got a phone call yesterday."

"Yeah, well, wrong numbers happen." Des kicked off the rest of her blankets and did her best to steady herself after the unpleasant wakeup call.

"Cute," Dex said sarcastically. "No, see, they were looking for you."

"Why?"

"Turns out your ex doesn't like you stealing and pawning his shit." She said before she pointed toward the kitchen. "What happened with Grey?"

Des's head shot up and for the briefest of moments, Dex saw a strange sort of worry. And then she followed Dex's hand and noticed him standing in the kitchen. Her face fell a little.

"Damn," Des stood and walked toward him, stumbling briefly over her blankets on the way. "Kyle got you good, didn't he?"

Grey eyed her. "That guy's name was _Kyle?_ Seriously?"

"Yeah," she nodded slightly. Des glanced at her sister. "The guy I was with started getting rough, Grey stepped in. Kyle swung."

Dex sighed once more. It was an increasingly common way of showing her intense exasperation when it came to her little sister.

"You are like a walking shit-storm, you know that?" Dex said angrily. "And this time, I'm not putting up with it. You hear me?"

"Dex, come on." Grey said.

"No," she snapped at him before her attention went back to her sister. "You're not bringing this here, not around Ansel. You want to fuck up your life, that's fine. But not here, not with him."

Des said nothing. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly fixed to her sister's, unblinking, and her jaw remained tight. It was a hell of a poker face, really, but Dex wasn't fooled.

Dex's jaw tensed and relaxed multiple times. She was angry, frustrated, and she knew she came down on her sister hard, but this was far from the first time Desi had brought trouble to their door. This time, however, Big-Sister-Parios was going to nip the problem in the bud. She could see the hurricane on the horizon and she wasn't going to wait for the storm to make landfall. Dex had worked too hard for her and Ansel to have a good, stable life, and as much as she loved their sister, Dex couldn't put it at risk. Not this time.

Desi chewed on her bottom lip. Her eyes were tinting pink and glassing a little bit, which told Dex that she was about to cry, but the tears never came. Instead, the younger of the two nodded solemnly.

"Fine," She finally said. "Give me a couple of days, and I'll be out."

Dex swallowed a hard lump that had formed in her throat. She nodded as well and that was the official end of the conversation. Her sister left, headed upstairs to either dry off or just take a shower, while Dex fought the self-loathing that coursed through her. She hated that she had to play the bad guy, but if Dex had to pick between her siblings, it was Ansel every time. Desi could take care of herself, mostly. And besides, how many chances were you supposed to give someone before you just wipe your hands clean of them? Because, surely, she'd hit that limit with Des more than once.

When she turned back around and caught sight of Grey, Dex shook her head.

"Don't," She warned him. "Just don't."

Grey held up his hands in surrender, a silent agreement that he wouldn't broach the subject with her. She gave a nod, as well.

* * *

Des didn't go back downstairs until she heard her sister storm away. She just couldn't manage facing Dex again. Maybe she should have hated Dex for the cruel words, but she didn't. She couldn't. Dex might not have realized it, but Desi was well-aware that she was the albatross around her family's neck. The only problem was her sister thought it was intentional. It wasn't. That kind of stuff just found Des somehow.

When she made it downstairs, Des found Ansel playing video games and Grey in the kitchen. He was still purging the disposal of coffee grounds. He must have heard her and glanced up. All action ceased when he met her eye.

"Hey," He greeted her a little unsurely.

"Hey," Des mumbled. She approached him and turned her back to Ansel so he couldn't hear the conversation she was about to have with him. "Look, I'm sorry about that earlier, and that." She pointed at his eye.

"Nah, don't worry about it." He replied.

"No, seriously." She said. Her head dipped slightly. "Dex is right, okay? I'm a shit-storm. I don't know how, but I always manage to find _that guy_. Every one of them –liars, yellers, beaters, cheaters… I mean, you name it, I've hooked up with it. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up being the leader of a religious cult or a bank robber or something." His smile turned forced and in it, a strange thought came to her. "Oh God, that's it, isn't it? You're one of those Mormons, but not like a normal one. You're one of those extremists that has thirteen wives, aren't you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Twelve," He replied. "I've only got the twelve wives. It's a nice round number."

Des smiled for the first time in a couple of hours and felt better for it. The pair of them were at ease for a moment, but only a moment. When Grey's smile faltered a little, he spoke.

"I don't want you worryin' about this, okay?" He pointed at his face. "It wasn't your fault. Besides, the night wasn't all bad."

She felt a nice little rush raise the hairs on the back of her neck and smiled softly again.

"Dex said you're in some trouble, though." He continued. "Your ex said you stole a bunch of stuff, or something?" She ground her jaw. "Everything okay?"

Des sighed. She ran her fingers through her hair and scratched the back of her head before she replied. She hated the itch that she felt when someone mentioned her ex. In fact, it wasn't even a simple itch. It genuinely made her skin crawl -almost the same way it does when someone just mentions something like lice. It's a natural, unintentional reaction.

"Another winner." She grumbled. "It's bullshit," She said as she met his eye again. "He was… not a nice guy." Grey's brows twitched together curiously, but she wasn't going to elaborate. "Anyway, he got possessive and stalker-y and creepy,"

"You didn't go to the cops?"

Des held up a finger and pursed her lips. "He might've been a piece of shit, but his dad and brother _are_ cops." Grey's face fell. "Yeah, so I just left town and came home." She shrugged a single shoulder, "I didn't steal anything."

"Then just tell her that."

Des shook her head. "There's no point. Like I said, Dex's isn't wrong, _but_, if you're still okay with it, I'd like to keep workin' at the bar."

He seemed mildly surprised, probably wondering why that, of all things, was her worry. As far as she was concerned, it was her only worry at the moment. It wasn't as though she could change Dex's mind any time soon, so she just wanted to know if she still had a job. It was the only important thing.

"Yeah," He said as though it should have been obvious. "Of course you do."

Des smiled heavily and nodded. "Thanks." She then took in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. "Now I have to tell Ansel I'm moving out, again. Christ, this sucks."

She turned and made her way into the living room, all the while thinking about what she was going to have to say. The last time she told Ansel she was leaving, the look on his face practically tore her heart out. He didn't even have to say anything, just the disappointment in his eyes made her feel like shit.

"Hey, bud." Des said when she made it to the couch and sat beside him.

"Hi," He replied while he struggled to keep his FIFA player on point.

"I need to talk to you for a sec, okay?"

He paused the game and when he looked at her, Des could see his measured skepticism. Sometimes she genuinely hated how well he read people.

"Something's wrong." He said. It wasn't even a question. Des could only nod slightly. And then his face fell and his brows tugged together. "You're leaving again, aren't you?"

"Sort of,"

His head dipped. Des felt an itch in her throat and hoped she wasn't about to start crying.

"Hey, look at me." She said. He did, but his expression was still sad. "I'm staying in town, okay?" Des wrapped her hand around his arm reassuringly, though she couldn't say for sure if it was for his sake, or hers. "And I'm still going to be working at the bar, I'm just not going to be staying in the house."

"Why?" He asked sadly. "I like that you're back."

"I like being back, too." She smiled. "But me and Dex… you know how we get when we're together for too long."

"Live wires."

Des smiled wider than before and it actually held a little bit of happiness.

"Yes, exactly."

She remembered years back trying to explain to the very-young Ansel why she and Dex couldn't be under the same roof sometimes. There was a science show on TV at the time (Bill Nye rerun or something) and he was dealing with electricity or something. He held two live wires to each other and showed how they sparked and spit. Des used that as a chance to explain why the sisters didn't get along all the time.

"Where are you going to live, then?" He asked.

"I'll think of something. Me and Dex just need a break from each other for a little while."

"But you still love each other, right?"

In an exaggerated, high-pitched way, she said, _"Well…"_ Ansel smiled. "Of course we do. Come here,"

Des wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Ansel hugged her in return and she felt better for it. At least she didn't disappoint him.

* * *

Des brought Ansel to work. Grey had a couple things to take care of, he wouldn't say for who so Des assumed it was her angry sister. Ansel was busy gathering up some cleaning supplies to give the place a good once-over before they opened, and Des was in the bathroom doing the same. She didn't envy the people responsible for cleaning them at closing. Fortunately, that hadn't been a request made of her. All she had to do was make sure there was enough toilet paper in the stalls, those paper things people put on the seats, and other little tidbits. It was an easy job and only took her about ten minutes per restroom.

When she'd finished and headed back out into the bar, she heard a voice she didn't recognize. She stepped to the side around the central bar and noticed a stranger. A tall, thin man with ginger hair and clothes right out of the seventies was talking to Ansel. Des could tell by her brother's body language that he wasn't comfortable. Ansel was a great judge of character, he always had been, so she trusted him.

"Do you have the keys to that office?" The ginger guy asked as he continued to step toward Ansel. Ansel shook his head. "But, you been in there, right?" Ansel didn't reply. "He have a safe in there?"

That was more than enough for her. Des didn't like the guy or the questions he was asking, and she sure as hell didn't like him near her brother.

Des stepped out from behind the bar. "Can I help you with something?" She asked in a strong, tight voice.

The ginger glanced up and looked her over. "Just talkin' to my friend here."

"That right?" She didn't hide her sarcasm as she stood beside Ansel. "Well, I don't know who the hell you are."

"Hi, Desi." Ansel said to her.

"Hey, sweetie. You good?"

He nodded, but glanced briefly to the stranger. "He's looking for Grey."

"Yeah, I caught that." She smiled softly at Ansel before turning her cold, angry eye to the ginger. "I'm pretty sure my brother already told you we're closed, and as you can see, Grey's not here. So, I suggest you get out and come back during regular business hours."

The ginger stared at her and Des could tell he didn't like being spoken to so derisively. Few people did.

"Yeah, well, like I was telling him," He pointed at Ansel, "Grey's an old friend of mine."

"And not here," Her voice was barely above a growl. "So leave."

The stranger scoffed. He shook his head and, fortunately for him, he chose to set his glass down and leave. Des watched him go and didn't relax until he was gone. When he was, she let out a sarcastic sigh and looked at Ansel.

She scrunched up her face. "I didn't like him."

"Me neither." Ansel said with a small smile.

Des smiled, too. "Alright, bud. Let's get this place ready, okay?"

"Okay,"

He grabbed the tub he'd set down and walked off. Her smile faded the moment he couldn't see her. Des couldn't say what kind of people Grey was friends with, but the ginger set her creep-meter way off.


End file.
